


Wayward Femme

by Toomanyideas_toolittletime



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Caring, Comedy, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Giant Robots, How Do I Tag, Humor, Loving Marriage, Pampering, Plot Twists, Robots, Sleepy Cuddles, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), Transformers Spark Bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyideas_toolittletime/pseuds/Toomanyideas_toolittletime
Summary: Perceptor recieves a com from the Captain of the Lost Light. He's looking for his third in command that hasn't showed up for their regular movie night. The scientist hasn't heard from his sparkmate in a couple of joors, and he knows she NEVER misses movie nights with the Captain. Never.
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Perceptor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Wayward Femme

**Author's Note:**

> This is another genderbent story! I love playing with the ideas of both a Gender bent Perceptor or a gender bent Drift. There are no stories about this idea at all! I aim to change that♡

"Perceptor? Have you seen Drift? I haven't heard from her in hours and she never misses our movie night." Rodimus' message pinged across Perceptor's hub. He had to work the words around his processor for a moment. Drift had not been heard from. He hasn't heard from her either in the last few joors now that he though about it. 

He noted the time on his chronometer. His shift was over three joors ago. He needed to find Drift. She was far more important than this experiment. Besides. Rodimus was right. She never missed movie night with the captain. Never.

He cleaned his side of the lab faster than he believed he ever had before. And it was still spotless. Ignoring Brainstorm's mess for the night, -though it sent uncomfortable tingles through his spinal strut down to his pedes- he set off to find his spark mate.

Bad thoughts begain to bombard his mind, thinking of all the terrible things that could have happened to Drift. He always tried to add a simple and perfectly innocent excuse as well, but the worry was slowly taking over his spark. 

It pounded harder when he couldn't find her in their hab suite, in Swerve's bar, on the Bridge, in the med bay, in the training room, in any of the head offices, rec rooms, or in any of the refuling lounges.. The only place left was a lower deck training room. He heard Cyclonus liked to use that one, perhaps Drift had found a good sparing partner. Or perhaps the con was causing harm to the smaller swordfemme. 

Perceptor's steps grew faster. 

He made it to the training room in record time. He threw open the doors to find Drift, alone, practicing.... violently. She looked exhausted, she looked.... horribly angry. Her yells and grunts were full of rage and it scared Perceptor a little. 

He walked slowly around the training mat until he was in her sights. He kept quiet and still until she was ready to talk. 

When she finally noticed him, her face was of horror. As if she had been caught or was scared out of a deep focus. Perceptor was lucky not to get stabbed and he knew it.

The next emotion was complete defeat. Condensation covered her frame and her optics swelled with coolant. "I lost." Was all she managed to whimper out.

Perceptor took a step forward and carefully opened his arms to her. "Lost what my dear?" He had a hunch, she must have indeed dueled Cyclonus, and it would have been a give in the con would have won. He hated seeing her so destroyed over it though.

"I lost to him!" She ignored the open arms and instead stabbed a training dummy. She growled and her fangs glinted in the low lighting. It was one of those split seconds that Perceptor could see Deadlock. She was no less beautiful than Drift he had to admit. 

"He's faster, he's stronger, he's cunning, he's brilliant and graceful. He completely whiped the floor with me Percy!" She growled out every word through clenched denta. She gave a few swings and a swift kick to the dummy, before turning and facing her lover. 

She let her arms hang to her sides, barely holding onto her swords now. She let her shoulders sag and her finails drooped miserably. Coolant stained her bright faceplates and her optics were a window into her spark. She was exhausted and defeated, inside and out.

"Drift... Cyclonus is ancient and and has had millions of cycles more to perfect his skills.. you shouldn-" Perceptor was cut short however. 

"Cyclonus? It was Tailgate!!!" Drift threw her swords down and gave a deep gutteral cry of frustration.

Tailgate? Why? How on cybertron... "Tailgate? I'm afraid i... don't understand.." it took everything in Perceptor to not start laughing at the mental images that materialized in his processor. Even though he finds humor in Tailgate and not Drift, the poor femme did not need any sort of laughter at the moment.

"Cyclonus has apparently been teaching the little bastard how to weild a sword. He challenged me and i figured it would be cute! CUTE. HA. HA HA." She groaned again and this time accepted her lovers arms and clung to him, resting her face on the cool glass of the taller mechs chest.

Perceptor had to process this all, but he would save if for later. He decided right now it didnt matter and he would just comfort the poor girl and get her to recharge. She was completely worn out and exhausted and he couldn't allow her to stay in this state.

"I dont care. It doesnt matter now Drift. Let's get you cooled off, cleaned up, refuled and recharged. You are an absolute mess." He stroked her finials with a servo as the other held the swordfemme around her thin waist. The smaller bot gave a shuddering sigh of exhaustion and nodded slowly. 

"That's fine... I'd like that..." Her voice came out cracked and weak. She was really reaching the end of her energy reserves. Perceptor decided to carry his little samurai, much to the femme's protest. But she gave in and clung to him like a life line. She nuzzled against his neck as if trying to hide from the world in his warm, comforting embrace.

"Percy..." She whispered drearily. The mech rubbed her thigh with his thumb to show he was listening. "Yes dear?" He responded just as quiet. 

"Thank you. For not laughing..." 

It came so soft. Soft with genuine appreciation and affection. Yet soft with lingering edges of shame and self loathing. Perceptor would have none of the latter emotions. He would have to attempt to remedy that. 

"Darling, why would i have laughed? Surely the entire situation caught you off guard. You were most definitely apprehensive, cautious not to hurt Tailgate, and completely bewildered when he showed some talent. You will beat him when the next opportunity shows itself. I believe in you. You will know what to expect. You shouldn't feel ashamed of this love." 

Perceptor could feel Drift's field pulse with warmth, adoration and embarrassment. He was certain his little samurai's faceplates were heated and colored vividly. He could feel her vents catch and choke a little. She wasn't crying though. She was just half laughing in shock. 

"I must apologize however dear. I was insensitive. You may be an absolute mess. But your an absolutely beautiful mess." He couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lip plates. A sweet, almost smirking grin he saved for her alone.

It succeeded in melting the lump of sentient metal in his arms. She hid further in his frame -as much that was physically possible without transforming into her lovers frame- and covered her face. 

"Oh my." Was all she could breath out. Her vents hiccuped in giggles. Perceptor let out something rarer than his smile. A sweet endearing laugh. Soft, delecate and affectionate. It only served to throw Drift closer to offlining. And she loved it. 

The rest of the trip was uneventful thankfully. Besides nuzzles and long vents if content. A couple of warnings begain to appear on Drift's hudd, but she cleared them, chosing to ignore them. She knew what was happening and she knew she was safe now. She would be taken care of.

Once in the hab, Perceptor let himself relax, and wrapped the calm field around the exhausted femme. She relaxed deeply into his arms and her racing engine gave a wonderous appreciative purr, pushing stale air through her vents.

"We're back Drift. Let's get you cleaned and fed. You can sleep after that. I promise." Perceptor chuckled quietly when he heard her conflicting groan. She thought it was a wonderful idea, but she wanted to sleep so badly!

She luckily didn't need to do much. She sat tucked into the scientists side as he cleaned her down carefully in the washrack. The warm, bubbly solvent felt wonderful on her frame, as well as the soft cloth large servos used to clean her vents and transformation seams, so carefully and delicately. It was heavenly and only served to pull her closer to recharge.

Next was the warm energon held to her lips. Her limbs were too heavy and servos far too shakey to hold the cube by herself. She was so thankful she didn't even have to tell Perceptor this. He just knew. He always knew. 

Her sparkmate added some medical grade supplements to help her auto-mend work faster during her recharge. Thankfully she wasn't too banged up and her exhausted systems would be perfectly fine even without the med grade. But Perceptor wanted there to be no ifs. He also wanted to spoil his lover.

After her tanks registered full again, she was lifted once more into strong steady arms and this time carried to the berth. The swordfemme gave a long satisfied moan and made grabby hands for the sleep slab. As normal as it was, it looked far too inviting. 

The childish display had Perceptor giving that rumbling chuckle from deep in his engine. It sent shivers through his lovers frame. "Now hold on darling, I'm going to plug you in." He warned before laying her on the berth.

Her recharging port popped open, and she rolled over. She grabbed her novelty pillow, wrapping her arms tightly aroung the softness, then burying her face in it. It was automatically lights out for the femme.

Perceptor shook his head with a fond smile and plugged her into the recharge cable. "KO'd by the pillow. Everytime." He ran the tips of his servos delicately over her back, a beautiful contrast of black on pure white panels. He stroked up to her helm, giving the finials a last soft stroke before kissing the side of her helm. 

He commed Rodimus to tell him he found their wayward swordfemme and she was now sound asleep. The Captain was deeply relived and pushed for, "deets", however Perceptor refused and told him to wait until tomorrow, much to the firey bot's disappointed. When that was taken care of, he cut off the lights, shut down the computer and made sure things were good for the night before climbing onto the berth next to his sparkmate.

He carefully wrapped an arm around her, pulling her towards him. He rested his chin on her shoulder and stroked the guards over her cheeks. Giving a final content exvent of his own, he whispered softly to her, "Goodnight my darling. I love you very, very much."

THE END


End file.
